


Letter, Fragment, Postcard

by Lilliburlero



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Diary/Journal, Epistolary, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Pastiche, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilliburlero/pseuds/Lilliburlero
Summary: Preparatory to their collaboration upon the Project of a School for Magicians, Mr Honeyfoot and Mr Segundus contract a Bond of Amity.*Note: suggestions of background homophobia, effeminophobia, egregious Regency pastiche.





	1. Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fengirl88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/gifts).



> fengirl88 recently reminded me that one of my comments on the TV adaptation was that John Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot are _verifiably married as fuck_ , and that there's a criminal lack of fic for the pairing. This story is the much-delayed result. 
> 
> Some plausible-deniability strategies have been adopted to accommodate various contradictions with bookverse.

Dear Uncle Malcolm,

Thanks for your last, of the 14th. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write in reply. I've been awfully busy at work, but it's all terrifically absorbing so I don't mind. I'll be eternally in your debt for convincing Mother that the Prosser Archive is a much better fit for me than all the dreary things she had planned. Meeting young men of the right sort can go hang, as far as I'm concerned; I'm not quite sure yet whether they bore me so much because they are young, men or of the right sort, but I always get on best with people who are the opposite of at least one of those things. 

Anyway, it's work I want to write to you about, in a way: I've run across a puzzle which I hope you might be able to help me solve. We've been working on some early nineteenth-century material, and in among a great sheaf of wills and deeds I found a couple of loose leaves which looked much more personal. I put them aside, and when I got a moment to read them my eyes nearly popped out of my head, for a couple of reasons, as you'll see. But the main one was I thought (and still think) they might belong with the Honeyfoot deposits at Streweminster, and I hoped you might be able to offer an opinion (informal, natch.) 

When I showed them to Mr Odell he went pink in the way that only someone with his gingery colouring can and said that in the first place they were almost certainly spurious, and even if they weren't, they didn't substantially contribute to historical knowledge, having nothing to do with Folkloristics, and as biography they could only be of interest to the prurient. I disagreed, as they say, in the strongest possible terms, but he absolutely refused to be moved. (I'm very much afraid that Mr Odell thinks that we girls are too innocent to have any inkling about his private life, but as Eileen says, getting swept off your feet by a dishy sailor every time he's home on leave is just the sort of thing you can count on women to notice!) 

I used my lunch hour to transcribe and type up the document, and am enclosing a carbon in the hope that you will find the time to look it over. I think you will find it amusing in its own right. But if you do think there's a chance, from the internal evidence, that it might actually be genuine, would you be the most superlative brick next time you are in town and drop round to run your expert eye over the original? Mr Odell would definitely listen to you, if it did turn out to be the real thing; it would be so exciting! Most of the detail is unpublishable, of course, but the important thing is the evidence of an Amicable Bond being proposed so early in the Revival era, even if it didn't quite come off. I know I'm getting ahead of myself, and not to get my hopes up, but I would simply love to know what you think, either way. 

Well, that is my big news for now, do write soon, not just about this Honeyfoot matter of course, but to tell me all the gossip. Give my best regards to Rollo and tummy-tickles to the pups, 

With lots of love, 

Joyce


	2. Fragment

—a veritable delirium of felicity, nay, of bliss. But I must collect myself and endeavour to present my history in its proper order.

Last e'en John came to me for his supper, for his landlady does not stint in provision of indifferent fare, injurious to his delicate stomach. I instructed Mrs B. to prepare the veal pasties and cucumber _Ragoo_ that are his favourites,  & Jumballs after, yet he shewed but a poor appetite for 'em. 

'Come, dear sir,' said I, 'if you cannot flatter my housekeeper by playing the trencherman, then perhaps you will oblige her by drinking a glass of her cordial parsnip wine.' 

That he could. He had down'd two, and was embarqued upon a third, which put into his cheeks a comely pink spot, when he said, very abrupt and not following from whatever small talk we were making, the substance of which was driv'n quite out of my head by his words, 'Two days ago I read somewhat did greatly interest me, and I should be glad to have your view upon't.' 

'Why, of course. Tell me more.' 

'A gentleman of my acquaintance, that has lately took an apartment in the Treasurer's House and found it substantially decay'd, discovered in the course of the _Improvements_ a bundle of papers in a conceal'd space behind some panelling. He was about to instruct his men throw 'em on the fire with much other dusty trash, but happening to see the words _Iohannes Uskglass, Rex Corvidae_ therein, was minded of me, and preserv'd them for my perusal.' 

'But this is most exciting!' 

He shook his head. 'There was nothing directly concerning Magick in 'em, and very little that is not known to men who have studied the art.' 

'Then what was it so interested you?' 

'It was a manuscript fragment from, I would judge by the crabb'd hand, the days of Queen Elizabeth. It told of a certain kind of contract that, in the days of the Raven King, two Magicians might voluntarily enter. I would say a fraternal bond—' he coughed. 'But this parsnip wine is most excellent, do present my compliments upon it to Mrs B.' 

'Have some more.'

He did, and continued, 'I would say a fraternal bond, except the— _Extasies_ of condemnation to which the Authour was provoked imply'd that these attachments entailed a love—' 

The pulse in my throat grew quick and I fear my face drain'd of its customary high colour. 

'—though commonly counted unnatural in itself, would be still more so engag'd in between brothers. Or—or sisters.' 

I was glad of _sisters_ , for upon it I might temporize. 'So Magicians of the _Sex_ might—might also pledge their troth?' 

'Yes, but only to each other, not to men.' 

'I see. Have you the paper with you, that I may read it?' 

'Alas, no. I put it into my coat, here,' he patted his heart, 'but it was most fryable, and when I got back to my lodgings I found it all crumbled into dust.' 

'I daresay,' I said, conscious that my voice was pitch'd a note or two above its accustomed tenor, and somewhat _quavering_ , 'it is among the old ways which Mr Norrell would seek to purge in order to make English magick _respectable_.' 

He smil'd very Puckish at me  & I struggled to suppress certain emotions related to his extream fair _looks_. 

'I do not think Mr Norrell approves of connexions between Magicians,' he said. 'Or between persons of any kind or condition. I am sure he admits, reluctantly, that those who have not Magick to occupy themselves might pursue them for the continuance of the _Race_.' 

'Think you so?' I said, not entire discreet. 'He is—no, never mind.' 

'Please, what did you mean to say?' 

'I mean, he depends very much on his man Childermass.' 

'You mean they—' 

'Oh, no! Or rather, speculation would be odious. Let me fill your glass.' 

He had his fourth, and I my second, glass of parsnip wine in silence. With his fifth ( & I resolv'd should be his last) he began again, rather vivid and unsteady. 

'I—I had not done.' He rose to his feet with a very conscious dignity, lifting his glass as if in a _Toast_. I remarqued as oft before the fine cut of his figure, tho' too _thin_. 'Since reading of these bonds of amity, sir, I have been wholly possessed of the thought that I might undertake—' here the rhetorickal effect was a little spoil'd by an _Hiccough_ , but he quickly master'd it, 'thus to contract myself.' 

His eyes had the wild & sideways look of a horse when it does go _shy_. I knew not how to controul my feelings, that were all up in a heap: pleasure, that my young friend should be initiate into the joys  & mysteries of Love, dismay, that his choise should take a form like to bring him much pain, _jealousy_ , for I wisht to have him myself. (There, 'tis said.) 

He fell to his knees, spilling most of the _cordial_ upon the hearth-rug. The glass I preserved in snatching it from his hand (it belong'd to my Gammer Honeyfoot, 'tis brittle tho' thick, in the manner of the glass of those times  & I should not happily have lost it, even upon such an occasion of Moment) and he said, 'I am yours, sir. If—if you wish it. I devoutly hope you do.' 

I was thrown into such _Confusion_ I could not speak, so I did not, and laying the glass on the table at my right hand, drew him into my arms, and there kiss'd him for some moments together, that did feel like to an Instant and an Eternity at once. It rush'd then in upon me that Mrs B. had not retired for the night, so reluctantly I dragg'd myself from the sweetest lips that had ever touch'd mine, and said, 'You must stay here, my lad, while I make all right. Sit back in that chair.' 

I rang for Mrs B., and told her to make up the couch in my dressing-room, for Mr S— and I purposed to study awhile together some papers he had lately brought me, and it would be altogether easyest if he did not have to fetch hackney or chair to carry him home in the _small hours_. I fear, like all bad lyars, I explain'd too much, for she looked very _meaning_ at the bottle that late held a deal more parsnip wine,  & at poor John, whose glassy stare & fix'd gripe upon the arm of the chair had not the immediate promise of scholarly endeavour about it, and bobb'd with a distinct purse of her lips. 

'Are you certainly resolved?' I whispered. 

'Oh, my dear, yes.' 

'Because,' I said, dreading the wrack of my hopes, yet obedient to the demands of _Honour_ , 'if it is indeed so that such an _Amicable Bond_ may only be enter'd into by two Magicians, then I cannot—I am not, there is no man in England who could—' 

John, who had been staring at the ceiling since the beginning of my speech, emitt'd then a very raucous and high-pitch'd _noize_. Belatedly, I recogniz'd it as a laugh. 'Except Gilbert Norrell. But you see, my darling, I don't want to f—k Gilbert Norrell. I want to f—k you.' 

Vitious language is very _Piquant_ from the mouth of a gentleman usually reserved and mannerly, a Southern gentleman most especially. I do not know why that should be. John looked something shockt at the license he had took, and said, 'I understand your scruple. And that since you signed that foolish paper—why did you sign it—?' 

'To further the cause and course of English Magick.' 

'Well, then, there is the point. It may be that you cannot contract yourself to me as a Magician, in the strictest sense. But it is equally true that bonds between Magicians there must be: Magick cannot flourish without 'em, lockt up in Gilbert Norrell's barren Abbey. Hurtfew, and help none. So you would be violating only the letter, not the Spirit, of the agreement. And anyway—' He looked down and shook his head quickly. 

'What, dear boy? You can tell me.'

He tilted up his chin defiantly. 'I would have you without benefit of—whatever Magicians have in place of clergy. I would have you here, and now, and I shall, too.' 

Mrs B.'s appearance at the door forestalled the fulfilment of this ambition some ten minutes, but then I carry'd him straightway to my chamber. I would, I confess me, happily have hugg'd him, Bridall-wise, across the _Yatt-stead_ of any house of mine, but that he would not suffer such a compromize of his dignity, hating as he does anything _Effeminate_. 

I discover'd this as we dallied on the day-bed nominally his, with the purpose of disordering the linen to satisfy the Inspecktions of Mrs B. Between kisses and caresses I spoke of certain Houses  & Clubs I had frequent'd as a young man, where the height of the night's _Revelry_ was a _Mock-Marriage_ , the younger if not always the prettier of the couple being arrayed in muslin and Honiton Lace, as the _Bride_. 'Twas mostly Innocent _Sport_ , despite the _Thunderings_ of the Bench  & Grub Street alike against it, & where a company did display signs of real Corruption, coming under the sway of _Bawds_ & _Thieves_ , I did always make haste to quit it. But my sweet John was much of a Magistrate's _Mind_ , saying such goings-on were repulsive to right thought and it was proper they should be suppresst. Seeing my hurt, that I had but poorly hidden from my countenance, he kiss'd me and said, 'Forgive me. My mother was a widow of excessive sensibility, that endeavoured to delay my _Britching_ and keep me in _Petticoats_ past my time, which extream asham'd me. I daresay that is the cause of my recoil.' 

I did not then delay his _un-Britching_ , bare-ing his P—k & Ballocks to my sight and touch, he sitting on the couch and me kneeling before, and he lik'd it well. His _member_ is well-formed and of goodly size; the _Pills_ sit a trifle irregular in their Bag, which I find charming. He had but small controwl of himself, having not, I think, had this Act perform'd upon him in his life before, and at length he said, his voice coming something _sobbing_ , 'My dear, I am so sorry. I fancy'd I should die with the pleasure of it.' 

That gratify'd me much. Wont, as Yorkshiremen are, to be _rough_ in such circumstance, I presst him into a very searching kiss, saying, 'Taste yourself, lad, 'tis exceeding savoury.' 

Breathless, he disengag'd, and said with a smile, 'Tis true, I am a salty Jack indeed. I thought I would never recover, but—' 

O, for the renewing Spirit of a man still in his _Prime_! And how, at John's age, I considered myself out-worn because I could no longer f—k a half-dozen times in a night, but only three or four. 

'It is I must conserve myself, dear sweeting, for once a man of my years does go _spend_ , he is _spent_ until the next day, and I propose you shall have more pleasure of me before that dawns. Let us to my bed, it is more capacious.' 

Absently, he doff'd his shirt, which was all that remained to him of dress, and stood before me proud, candlelight playing upon his pale skin. I saw that his shoulders, which he has the scholar's propensity to _hunch up_ , are broad, his chest not sunk but full of wiry strength, the belly flat, indeed a little scoopt in, the hip-bones visible, his A—e, I confess, too skinny for my best delight, for I do love a plump A—e. Perchance with good feeding he will fill out. 

'I think we should go naked,' he said. 'In the days of the Raven King I am certain they went quite naked.' 

'It is well for you, you pretty piece. But I am as I was born, with a white head and something of a round belly.' 

He look'd on me with sad eyes, moving his head in a manner that minded me of a starling cag'd. 

'Can you doubt I think you beautiful?' 

So shyly I stript for him, and we went hand-in-hand to bed, as in the Golden Age when all was innocence. 

I satisfy'd him twice more, first from frigging him against that round belly of mine as we kiss'd, and roll'd, & kissed. He averr'd it was a sensation exquisite in itself, but arousing also to see me stain'd with his Spirrit, which he would go _recoup_ by kissing and licking my noble paunch, 'twould save the sheets. And then with my hand as I discharg'd myself between his thighs (with good feeding he must _fill out_ ) and that time the sheets were not sav'd, poor Mrs B., but she has kept house for unmarry'd gentlemen these many years, and is accustom'd, I daresay, to _Nocturnall Emitions_. We embrac'd and I twin'd my fingers thorough his hair, thinking how agreeable is the fashion for men to wear their own. In my young day it was all wigs, and the aukward matter of when, in course of amorous play, to remove 'em,  & endure either the bristl'd scalp beneath, or the absurdity of f—king with only a _Night-Cap_ on, which makes the state of _Nature_ entire ridickulous. I blew out the candle and we lay satiate in the dark, murmuring of love.  & also of _B—ery_ , whereupon he confesst he desir'd to use me thus, and since I can refuse him nothing I said, 'Next time.' We slept then & I did not wake, not even for my customary P—ss, until the shouts of the small-coal man and the brick-dust wench sounded in the street below & oh, my best-beloved John was still in my arms, open-mouth'd, snoring (the parsnip wine, doubtless) & he had dribbl'd a little upon my _Bosom_.  & I bethought me how I might contrive it to be so all the days of life that remain to me—


	3. Postcard

Dear Joyce,

Apologies for just a postcard—I think it is nonetheless a splendid example of the genre, and one I hope you don't have already. "Teestimonials" is almost learned, if you think about it! I am stuck at a frightful conference in Blackpool, giving an improbably dull speech in my Library Association tie. Bad news on "Honeyfoot," I'm afraid. Laurie was right—just from the style, almost certainly spurious, probably a pastiche from much later in the 19th century, or even more recent—though he needn't have been such a pompous ass about it. Hope you're not too disappointed. Let's have a lovely slap-up tea when I'm next in town, all the same.

Love,

Malc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The postcard is [this one](http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll16/Lilliburlaro/_57_zps0kqz7ydb.jpg).


End file.
